


A Downside of Being Temporally Displaced

by defying3reason



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awkwardness, Friendship, Gen, Race, Social Commentary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-29 04:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3882979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defying3reason/pseuds/defying3reason
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was having a conversation about the way people have been using the word thug in response to the recent unrest in the country, and this fic was the result.</p><p>Unbeknownst to him, Steve's been using some un-PC language. The rest of the Avengers decide to help Steve out with an intervention. It doesn't go quite the way they expect...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Downside of Being Temporally Displaced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chris Breechen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Chris+Breechen).



> Hey all! This is my first time dipping my toes into the Avengers fandom. I'm more of a DC girl myself, so I haven't read many Avengers comics. I have seen the movies though, and every time I watch a new one I can't help but think how much fun it would be to explore social issues through Steve's story. This idea presented itself, and I couldn't resist.
> 
> That being said, I know my views are far from universally shared. If you disagree with me cool, we can totally have a conversation about that, but if you leave an offensive comment on my fic don't be surprised if I refrain from responding. I've been writing fan fiction with a social justice spin for far too many years now not to be able to spot a troll.

It might have been his imagination, but Bruce thought Nat and Clint looked a smidge tense when they got back from an intel mission that had turned into a fight. Of course, it was hard to tell with Nat since she tended to look tense more often than not, but that was only if you didn’t know how to read her. Bruce had picked up on some of her ticks and…yep. This wasn’t her general ‘don’t mess with me’ shell, but something more specific.

Well, Barton at least was an open book and he was definitely discomfited by something.

It wouldn’t be their mission turning unexpectedly violent. Black Widow and Hawkeye were pros (and truth be told, Bruce was under the impression the two of them would be disappointed if they went on a mission where they _didn’t_ get to punch anyone). Bruce nodded at Natasha, inviting confidence if she felt the need for it, and then turned back to the project he and Tony had been working on.

Then Steve strode into the room, beaming with the good nature that they were getting more and more glimpses into as he settled into his new 21st century life. Some lingering sadness about all the years he’d missed presented itself from time to time, of course, but for the most part their Captain presented the appearance of one who was rolling with the odd punches life had handed him. When he wasn’t traumatized the man was “sunny” (as Tony put it, scowling). Bruce preferred seeing him happy, though sometimes it could be a bit much…

Maybe that’s what had Clint and Nat looking so unsettled.

“I can’t believe how well that went. We got all the data we went for, we managed to stop a violent act of terrorism before they committed it, and now I get to spend the rest of the day with my Negro friend.” Steve smiled winningly at all of them, seemingly impervious to the horrified silence his comment elicited. “I’ll tell Sam you guys said hi. Clint, Nat, always a pleasure busting thugs with you.” He waved at them, then headed off to change into civilian attire.

Nat leaned against a wall and crossed her arms over her chest. She arched a brow, while Clint let out a low whistle.

“The whole trip was like that,” Clint muttered.

“We…might need to work on that,” Bruce said.

“What?” Tony asked flippantly, attention still nominally focused on a data display he was facing. He shifted some of the windows around as he spoke, but Bruce could tell his attention wasn't on their project anymore. “Our teammate’s well-meaning patronizing old-fashioned racism? Come on guys, it’s harmless. Steve is many things, but a racist isn’t one of them. He can’t be racist. You heard him. He has a Negro friend.”

“Tony, he cannot talk that way to the press,” Bruce started, but he was cut off.

“Forget the press. Can you imagine if he talks that way to Fury?” Clint put in. The group let out a collective shudder.

“Okay, one of us has to tell the good captain about the social mores of the 21st century regarding race.” Tony tapped his nose. “Not it.”

“I don’t think anyone was going to volunteer you,” Bruce said.

Tony smirked and turned back to his work. “See, everyone knocks the self-centered, self-satisfied egomaniac persona, but this is one sarcastic industrialist who will not be having ‘a very special conversation’ with the boy super soldier. I’d say that alone is worth the self-imposed isolation that leads to my lonely nights with nothing but my armor and a bottle of Jack for company.”

“And Pepper.”

“Her too. Oh, I also have a Negro friend.”

Bruce rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to run that one into the ground, aren’t you?”

“I’m kind of curious about how he holds on to Pepper and Rhodey, but that’s not important right now.” Clint looked around the room. “I’m not exactly eager to tell Steve he’s been unintentionally racist as hell.”

“How bad is it?” Bruce asked.

“I think the top of the list is going to be explaining that thug doesn’t mean what it used to,” Natasha said with a wince. “We really can’t have Captain America punching people of color in the face while calling them dirty thugs.”

“Mm, that’s bad for the Avengers brand,” Tony agreed. “To be fair though, he punches every color of the rainbow in the face. Legit, I’ve seen him punch aliens. But you’re right, we should ditch the t-h word. Maybe we can get him to switch to hooligans. No, no, stay with me.” He held up his hands. “Imagine Steve decked out in his stars and stripes, the all American hero, tossing around hired goons with assault rifles while telling them off for being no good rapscallions…sorry, I lost it. That got too ridiculous even for me. But goons is still okay, isn’t it? One syllable and everything. Maybe he could use goons now.”

“You boys could just refrain from using witty rejoinders and focus on the fight instead.” Nat’s suggestion was met with derisive snorts and groans of dismay from all superheroes present. She rolled her eyes. “Well let’s get back on track then. Who’s going to instruct Cap in the complicated rational dynamics of the 21st century?”

“Not it,” Tony and Clint said at the same time. Clint shrugged. “I don’t think I’d be any better at it than you, Stark. I can barely keep this stuff straight myself. I thought thug was still okay until I saw that thing with Geraldo. When did it become the new n-word anyway?”

“It’s a recent thing,” Bruce said.

“It happened when racists felt a driving need to get on TV and complain about ‘those people’ while knowing full well how it’d look to condemn the victims of systemic oppression based on skin color. So they came up with their little word substitution and thought no one would notice what they were really saying.” Tony nodded at Clint. “Apparently it worked on some of us.”

Clint flipped him the bird. “I _noticed_.”

“Eventually,” Natasha said. “With some prompting.”

“Oh come on.”

“Mm, how often would it come up? I mean, it’s not like Hawkeye has a Negro friend to keep him attuned to these things.”

* * *

They eventually settled on Bruce to be the bearer of PC news. Naturally, he objected to his assignment, but as the others pointed out, of the Avengers he was probably the best equipped to handle a sensitive conversation.

“Sure, the guy who turns into a giant green rage monster when he gets uncomfortable,” Bruce muttered to himself. That excuse hadn’t flown though, because they all knew it took more than a bad conversation with a trusted friend to bring out the Hulk.

So Bruce caught up with Steve on his way to the garage and waved him down. “Hey…before you go meet up with Falcon, is it okay if I have a word with you?”

“Sure. Something on your mind?” Steve fixed him with a look of compassionate concern, clearly genuinely worried for the well-being of his friend and colleague. A lot of people thought it was the serum that made Captain America special, and while the serum had certainly helped there was just something in Steve’s core that made him a hero. Little details, like the fact that he actually cared about his teammates for more than tactical reasons showcased that quality, in a striking contrast to the way Tony at least presented himself.

“Yeah, uh…the others asked me to talk to you about something. It’ll just take a second.”

Steve followed him into a break room just beside the garage. Steve sat down on the sofa and eyed Bruce expectantly, looking more earnest and puppyish than ever. Frowning, Bruce walked over to the mini fridge, reached around the bottles of liquor that seemed to follow Iron Man like a noxiously fragrant shadow these days, and snagged a water bottle. He couldn’t think of anything else to do to stall, so he began speaking as he twisted the water bottle in his hands.

“So, we were just talking and, um…it’s not that we don’t get how hard this is. Getting caught up and all after losing so many decades. It’s going to take time, and it’s tough and we get that. You’re really doing amazingly well, all things considered. But um…there are just, just some things you’re going to have to catch up on sooner than later. Like, like we can’t leave you to find some of this stuff out through chance, you know?”

Steve narrowed his eyes in confusion. “I think I’m following you so far, but you’re not being terribly clear. Is everything all right, Bruce? I haven’t offended anyone, have I?”

“Not us, exactly.” Bruce frowned. “But we should probably talk about this before you spend much more time with Falcon. Or with Fury.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you guys think I have a problem with Negroes?”

“The fact that you’re using the word Negro kind of indicates that already. It’s…um…it’s not something people say anymore.”

“I noticed that, but I couldn’t figure out why. The last time I managed to get my hands on a copy of the Crisis I read a compelling piece about the dignity of the word Negro and why it deserves the respect of the capitalization of a proper noun. I…I always made sure to capitalize it after that.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to gape. “You used to read the Crisis? The newsletter put out by the NAACP?”

“Yeah, when I could find a copy anyway. It wasn’t always an easy publication to track down. Especially for a white fella. In my time it was edited by a really interesting man by the name of WEB DuBois. He was a bit angry for my tastes, but his passion was doing a lot of good. Smart fella too. Do you know who’s editing it now? That is, if it’s even still in publication? I noticed that the NAACP is still around but they’re a bit different than I remember.”

“Uh…I’m not sure if I…no, I don’t think they still publish the Crisis.”

“Rats. Oh well. There must not be as much of a need for it then. You know, I’m glad you brought this up because I have been trying to make sense of what’s going on with the Negro community today. Sorry, what word should I be using? Should I say colored folks?”

“No!” Bruce blurted out without thinking. “Uh…just say black. People use African American too, but black is fine.”

“Okay. Well anyway, when I went to sleep things were pretty awful for black people, but exciting too. They were making all these great organizations and putting out great works of art to try to show white folks that they were just like everyone else, that all people deserve respect no matter the color of your skin. The poetry that came out of that was something else. I particularly liked the work of this one fellow, Langston Hughes. Bucky thought he was going to be a flash in the pan, but I always thought his work was going to endure. Do people still read Langston Hughes?”

“Yes…his work has aged very well.”

Steve beamed at the news, but his expression darkened with his next words. “I just don’t understand it. In some ways things look a heck of a lot better than they were when I hit the ice. I mean, I remember fighting like heck so I could have an integrated unit to go and fight the Nazis. It seemed like the most obvious thing in the world to me that if a man was willing to lay his life on the line for our country you ought to treat him with respect. But a lot of folks didn't see eye to eye with me on that. But then I wake up in the 21st century and find myself taking orders from a ne-from a black man, and my friend Sam’s had a distinguished military career, so that’s something. But then at the same time, I can’t seem to get caught up. No one ever talks about race. I can’t even tell how much progress we’ve made and what’s the same. Or if some things have gotten worse.”

“Okay, well…well what do you want to know?” Bruce sat down on the arm of the couch and faced Steve.

“Did Walter White and the boys ever get one of those anti-lynching bills through the Senate?” He looked so earnest that Bruce wanted to say yes, but he honestly wasn’t sure. “I signed a bunch of petitions about that. I even got Bucky to sign a few of them, and he wanted to just let all that alone. He thought it was a Southern problem. I don’t know how many race riots he needed to see in the North before he realized it was an American problem.” Steve shook his head, lost in an old argument.

“I’m-I’m not really sure, Steve. I’m going to have to look that up for you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I always hear.” Steve sighed. “I noticed there’s a black history month now, but it doesn’t seem like it’s doing much good. No one seems to know anything of substance about civil rights struggles.”

“Have you read up on the Civil Rights Movement?”

Steve shook his head. “Can you tell me about it?”

“I can tell you a little. It grew out of the stuff it sounds like you were involved in in the 30s and 40s. In the 50s and 60s there was all kinds of social unrest and agitation. Laws were changed and schools and businesses became integrated. I bet you’d like that stuff. Martin Luther King was one of the leaders, but most of the stuff going on was very grass roots. Lots of normal people coming together to fight injustice.”

Steve looked intrigued. “I’ve heard a little bit about Martin Luther King. He sounds like the kind of guy I would have liked.”

“I think so too.”

“I’m glad things are integrated now. Sam and I are going to take in a picture later. That’s not something I could always do in the 40s.”

Bruce smiled, finally understanding the excited look Steve had worn when he informed the others that he was going out with his Negro friend. The other Avengers hadn’t placed the innocently offensive sounding statement in its proper context, and hadn’t appreciated what it meant for a man from Steve’s era to go to a movie with a black friend without being hassled. Their friendship would be taken for granted as perfectly normal, not an act of radical transgression in and of itself. That, at least, was one thing 2015 had on the 1940s.

“Speaking of Sam, I’d better get going. I don’t want to keep him waiting. Maybe we can continue this discussion some other time though? It’s kind of nice to just talk about this stuff instead of tip toeing around it.”

Bruce nodded his agreement. “Yeah, I guess it is. Oh, one more thing though…thug is becoming one of those words you shouldn’t say now. It’s pretty recent, but yeah. It stopped meaning hired goon. People commenting on social unrest are using it as a code when they mean the n-word, so you should probably avoid it. You know, so you don’t give people the wrong impression.”

Steve frowned. “You guys thought I was a racist, didn’t you?”

“I mean, I mean we wouldn’t have been surprised. Your generation’s pretty different from ours. The fact that you’re not a racist, sexist, homophobe is pretty refreshing.” And pretty hard to explain, come to that.

“I’ve always felt that you should treat everyone with respect and justice, unless they give you a reason not to. Color, gender, and who you love isn’t a valid reason. It’s not any kind of reason at all.”

“Yeah. But you don’t hear a lot of guys from the 40s saying that.”

“Well I was always a bit out of step with the folks around me on some things. I’ll see you around, Bruce.”

“Yeah, bye.” Bruce watched him go, gave himself a little shake, then went up to the lab to report to the others.

Thor had joined them sometime during his absence. When Bruce walked into the lab Clint was showing Thor some kind of stupid cat video mash up on his phone while Nat silently judged them and Tony stubbornly continued working, as though the tinny music wasn’t breaking his concentration. Bruce correctly inferred that the internet video marathon was more about pissing Tony off than amusing Thor, though it was undoubtedly accomplishing both goals.

“Well I talked to him.” Bruce tapped his hands anxiously against his thighs, then started rubbing them together as everyone turned expectant looks on him (even Thor, who hadn’t been present for the initial discussion and didn’t seem to know what was going on). “It’s not going to be a problem.”

“Really?” Natasha looked skeptical. “You were gone for like ten minutes.”

“It was at least twenty,” Clint said.

“This might just be my cynical nature, but I’m thinking it’s going to take more than fifteen minutes to catch Steve up on social mores regarding race.” Tony closed out a few of his windows and stepped around the counter to join the conversation. “That’s not the kind of subject you can adequately handle with a quick chat, or so I’m told. I'm a particularly privileged white guy so I’m not sure I’m the best judge here.”

“Your ass should be in jail a thousand times over,” Clint agreed.

“Guys, it’s not a problem, trust me,” Bruce said, trying to get them back on track. “Steve’s…not a racist. To put it lightly.”

“I didn’t think he was,” Nat said. “He’s a product of his era, certainly-”

“No, Nat, it’s not even that. He’s… _not_ a racist.” Bruce quickly filled them in on his chat with Steve, a bit embarrassed to admit that Steve knew more about race relations than he did, and that he’d given injustice of all kinds a lot more thought than any of the rest of them. “So to sum up…Captain America’s a good guy.”

Clint rolled his eyes at what was possibly the most obvious statement any of them had ever uttered.

“A moment, friends. I’m confused.” Thor’s brow was creased with thought. “Am I to understand that mortals dwell with unreasonable focus on the coloring of one’s skin and take it as an omen of the person’s character?”

“Yep. And yes, we realize how little sense that makes,” Tony said.

“Ah.” Thor continued to look puzzled. “And my fair skin has given me a manner of privilege in presenting myself as a hero to your people?”

Tony nodded. “You got it, big guy. I mean don’t get me wrong. A guy flying in on a bolt of lightning throwing around a magic hammer is definitely going to freak people out, but they probably warmed up to you quicker because you’re a white guy flying in on a bolt of lightning throwing around a magic hammer.”

“I fear I shall never understand the ways of mortals.”

“It’s probably best for you if you don’t,” Bruce said. “We don’t always make a lot of sense.”

“Hm. And you have been concerned that Captain America has unintentionally presented himself as one of those irrational mortals who places undue concern on skin color owing to his missteps with language?” Thor frowned. “That could apply to me as well. Perhaps I should inform you all that I have dark skinned friends. I have never had a problem with Heimdall yet.”

The Avengers groaned, except for Black Widow, who was preemptively glaring Tony into silence.

“Big guy, absolutely. Absolutely tell everyone about your black friend. I’m sure that’ll clear everything right up.”

Or trying to, anyway. Glaring Iron Man into silence worked about as well as it ever had.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In response to Steve's question no, we never got any federally sponsored anti-lynching legislation to pass despite the valiant efforts of folks like Ida Wells-Barnett and Walter White. Seriously, we could never get enough people to officially agree that summary executions by mob shouldn't be a thing to pass an anti-lynching bill, nor could we get people guilty as hell of committing those murders imprisoned for it. But that wasn't something I had the heart to tell Captain America...


End file.
